


Backseat

by LibraLibrary



Category: Codename: Kids Next Door
Genre: Brainwashing, Dissociation, Headcanon, No pairings - Freeform, This got dark guys don't read if you're triggered by battling identities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 18:28:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3619890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibraLibrary/pseuds/LibraLibrary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A headcanon based oneshot hinting to a larger story that can be explored later. Sector Z didn't go away when the Delightfuls arrived; they were pushed to the back and forced to watch. Not all of them have stopped fighting it, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Backseat

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah this was a 3 A.M. thing based on one of the many headcanons I've been posting during the tumblr meltdown over GKND. I planned for it to be more sad than dark but whoops I'm terrifying. Don't read this if you're triggered in any way by identity loss or mild drug coercion. There's some headcanon names and relationships in this from a fic I started writing years ago and never got up the courage to post; I might make more stuff and remake that fic later if there's some demand.

When the five of them were awake and well, her name was Ashley, and she was a picture of perfection. Her school uniform was always perfectly pressed and every individual hair fell into place just as her family did, and when she sipped her tea (no coffee after school, Father didn’t want them to be too jittery in the evenings) with her snack, it was perfectly in time with the others, silent and dainty. The teenager to their left had glanced up from the homework he was looking over, raising a brow in confusion at their synchronized motions. She found that somewhat sad, and highly ironic; teenagers were so close to precious, perfect adulthood, yet they could be more reckless and witless than the children they used to be. Of course, even the most well-behaved teenager might as well have been a foolhardy toddler in the ten blues eyes staring back at their reluctant tutor. “Is there a problem, Chad?”

The chorus was like an angry hornet in his ear canal, and he shook it off, frustrated. “Maybe with your memory. All of you mistook pi for 3.41, that’s where you messed up.”

He slid the papers across the tabletop, and five hands reached out effortlessly to stop their own. “Our mistake,” they droned in unison, retrieving their pencils and carefully erasing the faulty work, “memorizing all of those numbers can be confusing and tedious.”

"You only need to know the first two decimals for school, you kiss-ups. Save the big numbers for passing period math teacher flattery."

If he was trying to start a battle of wits, they didn’t wish to humor him, continuing their work with little more noise than lead scratching and calculator tapping. Ten bright blue eyes danced along the papers, though one pair found itself slowly drifting from the math worksheets below to the boy leaning back in the chair (the front legs were lifting off the floor, such disrespect) and nibbling an apple slice. For the moment, her siblings remained unaware that she had paused, though they would naturally take notice soon enough, and question her.

_"Chad! Chad I’m over here, look at me, I’m right here!"_

Her head throbbed with pain, and as she raised her hand to massage her temples, the suddenly aware and inquiring internal voices of her siblings were drowned out by the hysterical screaming of that heinous single noise. The voice that called herself Katelyn and 0.3, and yelled at Ashley for how she dressed, and how she treated other children, and cried about wanting to take her brother and go home again (she envied the brother in question, to be honest; while her old voice shrieked and raised a fuss, his sat quietly and resigned in the back of his mind like a good little boy, at least that was how he said it). While “Katelyn” raised hell in her head, Ashley reached shakily for her teacup, trying to ignore the now vocal questions of her family and the look of confusion and dawning worry on their tutor’s face.

_"Chad, you traitorous moron, IT’S ME!"_

The scream assaulted her senses and momentarily assumed control, pushing back against the table and wrenching the quintet out of their seat. The other four stumbled, but regained their footing, catching the odd one out as she wilted. Chad was out of his seat in a second, approaching with caution. “Everything alright?”

The four spoke for their shaking sister, voices tinged with frustration and fear that they had been forced out of their shared thoughts. “She gets severe headaches sometimes, nothing to worry about, we have medicine in the kitchen.”

The teenager seemed doubtful, and his expression softened as he got down on his knee to make eye contact. “You sure you’re okay Ashley? I could call your Father-“

The girl’s head whipped up, and he almost visibly recoiled. Her eyes, only seconds earlier placid and content, were wide and watery like a startled animal. She was shaking violently, her mouth opening and closing with little gasps and false sentence starts. For the first time since the Delightfuls had begun their reign of terror, she gave him the distinct impression of a terrified child in danger. His instincts from the KND stabbed at him, demanding he find the source of her distress and solve the problem, though outwardly he would need to frame it as being a good little babysitter for Father’s brats. Still, despite all the antagonism, there was something heartbreaking about the way she looked at him, a visible desperation.

"…Chad?"

Her voice was surprisingly tiny and frail when seperate from the legion drone of her family, and prompted him to action, nodding to her as he stood. “I’ll get the medicine. You guys shout if something happens.”

The blonde craned her neck to follow as he left the room, shaking harder than ever as her little voice strained against her throat. “Chad, wait…”

He was out of earshot, and her brothers and sisters sighed, gently patting her head and rubbing her shoulders. “Ah, Ashley, poor thing. Don’t worry, that nasty little voice will quiet down in a moment. She always does.”

Katelyn shuddered, eyes wide as saucers while fat tears of despair rolled down her delicate cheeks. She wanted to scream, to announce her presence and pull free of the formation, but five very loud, very strong voices screamed in her mind, forcing her into frozen submission. When Chad came back with the headache medicine, she would be able to do nothing but numbly accept the pills, and she’d fade back into her dark little personal hell theater, watching from the eyes of the thing that used to be her as it toiled dutifully to destroy all that she used to love.

"Shame that she still fights so often. What could have possibly set her off?"

The former Supreme Leader hurried back in with a small glass of water and a pair of tablets, and Katelyn whimpered as she glanced at her oblivious old friend out of the corner of her eye.


End file.
